


Hideaway

by sherlockian_scot



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brother Feels, Brotherly Love, Holmes Brothers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate Sherlock, Psychopath Sherrinford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian_scot/pseuds/sherlockian_scot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Sherrinford Holmes. Things didn't go quite as planned for me. </p><p>Half of my life so far in confinement was not the plan.</p><p> </p><p>Incomplete, to be updated regularly and tags added. Tags and Summary will make sense when more chapters are added.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning

SMACK. The soggy, leftover cheese and pickle sandwich hit the back of 6 year old Sherrinford Holmes head. The pickle ran down the nape of his neck, his shirt sticky and stained. "Hey freak, your stop!" an older boy shouted from the back of the bus - his friends laughing - as the small, white bus stopped at the bottom of the Holmes drive. Freak, a name he had managed to inherit from Sherlock. Sherlock, he wished he was there. However the damned strange educational system of Sussex demanded children aged from 8 moved up to the high school along with all the older children and children aged 5, 6 and 7 stayed in a smaller, separate school. Last year was better, the names were whispered infrequently rather than shouted across playgrounds every second of the day. They knew that if Sherlock heard, well, they might find themselves losing a few teeth.

He ran hurriedly down the bus aisle, dodging various projectiles - from pencils to crisps, rubbers to apples. Scampering down the steps, he watched as the bus left, keeping his head down. The bus drove for about 50 metres before it turned a corner and became invisible behind trees.

The grin spread across his face like wildfire until it was ear-to-ear. Sherrinford span round and made a bee-line for the countryside cottage. His short legs moved with fury as the cottage was in sight. The red door was all of a sudden in front of him, and Sherrinford barged in the door and through to the kitchen.  
"Daddy, Daddy look!" Sherrinford shouted, throwing his bag off and pulling out a sheet of paper. "Sherrinford not now I'm busy," his Father sighed, he was balancing several dishes. In the oven, out the oven, in the sink, whizzing around like a hurricane. "Oh, okay." Sherrinford replied. He swallowed his disappointment and ran across the hallway to his Mother's study, gathering back some of his initial excitement. Three quiet knocks, "Mu-" "Busy!" The shrill cry replied. It was a long shot anyway, Violet Holmes' work in mathematics was always at the forefront of her mind.

He walked sullenly up the wooden staircase, each step creaking underneath his feet. He knocked on the first door, Mycroft's bedroom come study. Two quiet knocks, "Myc?" The reply was a sigh and Sherrinford left immediately. He should have known his brother wouldn't even grace him with a singular word from his oh-so-holy mouth. 

Sherrinford didn't knock on the final door, he could hear Redbeard's snuffling from within and Sherlock waiting for him in tense silence. Sherrinford took a deep breath before he barged in the door. "LOOK!" Sherrinford shouted shoving the paper into Sherlocks hands and initiating a small dance around him," I got an A+ Sherlock, I'm not stupid, I'm not, Mycroft LIED!" he chanted in a sing-song voice. Sherlock giggled and grinned, so the nights of drilling addition and subtraction into Sherrinford's head had been worth it.

Sherrinford wasn't stupid, no, not really. Addition and subtraction were extremely hard for him, yes, and eventually multiplication and division would be practically impossible for the boy, but he was clever in other ways . He could deduce like second nature, even if he didn't always realise he was doing it, and one night when Redbeard was lost he tracked him through ten miles of forestry like a professional FBI agent, not to mention he fought like a judo world champion and swung from trees like an actual monkey. Sherlock adored and admired him completely, and in turn Sherrinford worshipped the ground he walked on.

Sherlock smiled at him, "well done Sherrinford, let's go put it up in your room." Sherrinford grinned like a Cheshire cat and ran through, Redbeard at his heels, tearing sellotape off of a dispenser in his room and taping the sheet half way up the wall.

Finishing the task, he immediately span around to face Sherlock. "Can we go to the woods?" he inquired. "Ninjas versus pirates?" Sherlock guessed, Sherrinford grinned in reply. Sherlock ran through to his room, his previously short and chubby legs had become long and spindly as he was having a growth spurt, placing him 2 heads taller than Sherrinford. He grabbed his hat, cutlass and eyepatch and fastened the black handkerchief around Redbeard's neck. Sherrinford dived under his bed, grabbing the red headband and crudely tied it around his forehead before shucking off his ugly, garish school uniform and replacing it with a black T and trousers. He left his feet bare.

Sherrinford assumed his ninja character immediately as he cracked open his window and shimmied down the drainpipe. "Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch." He scampered across the gravel, grabbing a few handfuls of the small rocks at the same time, before he escaped onto the lawn, and up a thick oak tree about 10 metres into the wood. The wood spanned miles of the countryside, and served as a perfect playground. Sherrinford found a steady branch, about 4 metres up the tree and crouched, readying himself.

Sherlock emerged from the cottage door, and crept across the lawn. Sherrinford knew that Sherlock had spotted him, his pace quickened and he changed direction ever so slightly. He scrabbled down from the tree at a pace that a squirrel would find enviable and ran further into the woods. "Avast ye ninja! Where ye' off to?" Sherlock shouted as he dashed after his younger brother, Redbeard on his heels, barking with excitement.

Sherrinford stopped after about 100 metres, the trees in the forest were sparse, so it was no danger to run in as plenty of sunshine peeked through the leaves. He climbed about 6 metres up a sturdy oak and removed his headband, attaching it to a branch. The red was easy to see in the sea of green, probably how Sherlock had spotted him before, Sherrinford deduced. Then, Sherrinford clambered down and scaled an adjacent tree, he climbed about 4 metres and crouched, staying silent.

Sherlock halted underneath the tree with the red headband, feigning that he didn't know where Sherrinford was, "Shiver me timbers, where could that blasted ninja be?" he exclaimed circling the bottom of the tree "I'll make that scallywag dance the hempen jig!" Sherrinford had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle his laughter. "Ha! I see you landlubber!" Sherlock cried, pointing at the red rag far up in the trees. Sherrinford giggled quietly as Sherlock chucked gravel up at the headband. 

"Sherrinford?" Sherlock barked up at the tree, hands on hips. Sherrinford wanted to burst out laughing at the quizzical look on his brothers face. "Ha!" Sherrinford shouted, standing up on the branch, Sherlock spun around. "I have fooled you, you clumsy sea oaf!" The look on Sherlock's face was of pure horror, "Hi-yah!" and with that ninja cry, Sherrinford began pelting the gravel at his brother. He landed a good few shots before Sherlock turned and fled with Redbeard, giggling the whole way at his crafty little brother. Sherrinford gave chase until he made it to the lawn and collapsed next to Sherlock and joined him in breathless laughter.

"My headband!" Sherrinford gasped, "it's still in the wood." Sherlock sighed, but got up and headed out to the trees, Sherrinford and Redbeard following him.  
"It's this one!" Sherrinford cried, as they approached the tree. He scaled it as easily as someone else might a ladder, and grabbed the red rag. "I'm going down to the river Sherry!" Sherlock called, the river was about twenty metres further in - a coursing channel of crystal clear water, around five metres across and one deep in the middle- Sherrinford could see it from where he was. "Okay!" he replied, from the top of the tree.

The two boys played at either side of the river, Sherrinford had pole vaulted across on a bendy branch he had found as Sherlock laughed in amazement. Sherrinford was creeping slowly further and further up the river, he started when he found an earthworm sticking its head out of the soil. He plucked it out of the ground, like a blade of grass.  
Sherrinford was fascinated with the creature, the way it could contract and lengthen its body like a spring, fantastic. He pulled it apart, slowly, and then pushed it back. Then, he slowly pulled it further and further, when his hands were perhaps twenty centimetres apart he noticed a miniscule rip in the worms skin, still, he continued to widen his hands. "Sherrinford stop!" Sherrinford looked up to see Sherlocks gangly figure across the river, his eyes were wide with horror. Sherrinford sprang back from the worm, "sorry," he whispered. "Come on, lets go," Sherlock said, Sherrinford used the branch again to get back. Sherlock didn''t laugh at him that time.

The boys walked in silence through the woods - Redbeard trotting at their heels- then, when they had reached the edge of the woods Sherlock grabbed Sherrinford by either shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "Now listen Sherrrinford," he began "i'm going to tell you now and not once more, so listen, okay? You cannot do that, ever. Dissection, yes, is okay and experimentation on dead body parts, but not on any living being, never on anything alive. It feels hurt Sherrinford." Sherrinford responded by looking at his feet. The boys walked inside hand in hand.


	2. The Stupid One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter :/

Sherrinford's bottom lip quivered like a leaf in the wind. 

"Sherrinford seems to find basic calculations practically impossible, and algebra a foreign language- " the teacher continued, rattling his failures off of a never ending monotonous list. "- he seems incapable of understanding or learning these concepts at all." The teacher gave an exasperated sigh followed by a pathetic smile. "Although Sherrinford is not completing the work at a high standard right now, we can continue to provide support for him and hope that his pace of work will pick up." Sherrinford hated that, the disgusting fake smile and the false promise that although he wasn't quite producing 'right now' he would eventually flourish,

"Yes well, thank you very much dear." Violet replied, vacating her small plastic chair rather swiftly, "I'm sure you're trying your very best for him." she sighed, "Thank you Mrs Holmes," the teacher replied. She threw Sherrinford a glare as the teacher talked . Siger looked at his shoes as if they held the answers for his 'a little bit slow' 'not quite there yet' son. 

Violet stalked down the corridor, trailing her two men behind her like deflated balloons. "What's next? English?" She snapped. "Yes Mum." Sherrinford replied, flicking a strand of his hair out of his face. His Mother turned around, " oh look at this hair! It needs a trim, well, at least it's not as bad as Sherlock's!" she said, agitated. Sherlock had a mop of curls in a dark brown shade, Sherrinford also had the colour and curls, however the back and sides of his hair were shorter than Sherlock's. She stalked back out in front, towards the science corridor. Siger placed a hand on Sherrinford's shoulder as they walked.

Her heels clacked of the grey floors, cleverly chosen to help hide any teen sick stains, and Sherrinford walked head down like he was heading to his execution. "Don't let the bastards keep you down, huh son," Siger whispered in his ear when Violet was out of earshot as Sherrinford giggled the way twelve year old boys do at swear words.

"Oh look at this Siger!" Violet called, clasping her hands together in delight, she was standing in front of a large glass trophy case in the main corridor of the school. More specifically in front of trophies with 'Mycroft Holmes' and 'Sherlock Holmes' carved on their sides. Maths, Chemistry, Physics, French, Biology. Sherrinford's mood grew darker."Oh yeah Mum!" He said to her, "Maybe I'll get on this one!" he threw a finger at the home economics trophy, "Oh now Sherrinford! We both no neither you or your brothers can cook for toffee!" - Siger glared at her - "I mean, that's no way to think, one day you'll wake up and you'll just get it!" she said, in a sort of hopeful tone, as if if she wished for it enough it might just come true. Sherrinford stomped off.

He often had dreams like that, one day he woke up and 'just got it' he was so smart like Sherlock and Myc, he was on gleaming school trophies of silver and gold. Mummy was so proud, and Dad didn't look at his shoes every time he told him a test result.

The next appointments in the parents evening : English ; Science ; Geography ; History and Art went much the same:  
\- 'Seems incapable of learning, not for lack of trying.'  
\- 'Finds it hard to progress through levels of working,'  
\- 'Currently unable to grasp concepts,'  
\- 'Finds memorising difficult and attention span is limited,'  
\- 'Struggles with progressing through work right now,' 

Sherrinford wondered if his brain was just wired wrong. 

"P.E next," Violet sighed, taking off down the corridor, "the Everest in the mountain range of useless subjects!" Sherrinford huffed, P.E was his favourite.

"I have to say Mrs Holmes!" The P.E teacher began, Mr Mason, leaning forward onto the desk in enthusiasm "Where Sherlock and Mycroft, em, struggled, with P.E, Sherrinford excels! Especially in gymnastics and athletics!" Violet's eyes widened. A few seconds of silence, Sherrinford was grinning. "Thank you very much Mr Mason." Siger replied, as Violet was stunned to silence. Mr Mason continued to sing songs of praise for Sherrinford for another fifteen minutes before they left. 

 

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Sherlock and Sherrinford chased peas round their plates, "Oh for Gods sakes boys!" Violet sighed, "just eat your dinner." Sherlock speared a singular pea. The boys smirked at each other as they looked on at Mycroft inhaling his food.

"Now Sherrinford," Violet began, clearing her voice, Sherrinford sighed - he knew what came next already. "We need to discuss your, em, report. Your Father and I are perfectly willing to hire a tutor for you, you are twelve now and well -" "What for?" Sherrinford replied. "I'm sorry?" his mother questioned as Sherlock chuckled, quieted by Siger's glare. "A tutor, what for?" Sherrinford smiled as Violet's face flushed dark red. "Well, um, Sherrinford. Your schoolwork is declining quite rapidly and your , em, your teachers have made it clear to us that you are trying your hardest but, well." "I'll tutor him Mummy," Mycroft stated as Sherrinford giggled and Sherlock outright lost it and had to excuse himself. Mycroft was as red as Violet, "I'm twenty-one and perfectly capable." Mycroft spluttered. "Um, thanks but no thanks Myc." Sherrinford replied "Oh come on Sherrinford!" Mycroft shouted, standing up from the table, "You're never going to get through school at this rate! Just look at your report, 'struggles' 'finds difficult', they might just as well have written 'idiot' on it!" Violet placed a hand on Mycroft's arm as he sat down, "Mycroft," she hushed. Sherrinford stood up then and left, Sherlock was waiting for him in the hallway.

"There is plenty you can do without academic subjects you know," Sherlock stated, quite matter-of-factly, the two boys lay on Sherlock's bed. " I like French," Sherrinford told his brother, stretching his legs on the duvet. "There you go!" Sherlock resolved, turning towards him "You can be a P.E teacher in France!" Sherrinford giggled before sitting up, "Goodnight Sherlock." He said as he began making his way through to his room, "Night." Sherlock replied. 

 

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It was 11:30pm and Sherrinford heard murmuring from downstairs, Mummy and Father. He could only hear snatches of the conversation, but as soon as he heard 'Sherrinford,' he had snuck out onto the landing in a flash to eavesdrop, his ninja skills served him well - "I just don't get it darling!" Violet was saying, "He tries, I know he tries! He just can't get it, and if he does he forgets it almost immediately!" she shouted in exasperation, "Do you- do you think we should take him to a doctor?" she said in a hushed whisper, Siger seemed to laugh at that "But darling! You need to stop comparing the poor boy to Mycroft and Sherlock! He's just a normal boy, he loves sport and he's not half bad at his French! He's okay! He doesn't need a doctor." Violet sighed, "I know, it's just, I worry for him." Sherrinford stood up and went back to bed.

**Author's Note:**

> 'Dance the Hempen jig' - means to hang (the rope was often made from hemp fibres) - Pirate slang.


End file.
